A robin

[Katya_ann]

The Burn


If I hated you any harder,
I would burn up like those people
in those pictures of spontaneous human combustion.
There’d be a black and white picture of an arm chair
with an untouched sneakered leg left propped up against the magazine rack.

If I hated you any harder,
I would burn up like the food you drop from a pan
on to the gas jets, blue and orange.
I’d turn charcoal black and I’d smell like bubbly fat
or whatever bacon grease-covered scrambled egg smells like when it hits searing metal.

If I hated you any harder,
I’d burn up all over like that tiny patch of skin on my forearm.
I’d be a shiny pearl pink and scar tissue white
just like that quarter-sized little bit that I accidentally pressed up against the engine of your car
when I cut your brake lines.